Hermione and Harry's Problem
by Lyvvie
Summary: Hermione and Harry seen through the eyes of themselves and Professor McGonagall. Not good at summaries. Chapter 4 now up. HPHG and a little SSMM. R & R please!
1. McGonagall

Authors Note: Please bear with me. This is my first story, and I know it is a short chapter, but I'm very tired.

Professor McGonagall stood outside the banquet hall, awaiting the arrival of the first years. How many years had she done this, she thought? Every year, she awaited the first years here at the door, watching them approach, their eyes alight with wonder and amazement. And every year she put on her sternest face, intended to make her appear unapproachable. This year, however, she felt, would be a little different. This year, she would get that which she had been waiting for. This year, brought eleven years of wondering, eleven years of anxiousness, to an end. This year, brought Harry Potter.

Professor McGonagall could hardly contain her excitement. The sweet baby boy she had watched Dumbledore lay on the porch of Number 4 Privet Drive, with nothing but a letter and a scar on his forehead, was here. She had often wondered how he would look after all these years. Would he have his father's appearance, his mother's hair? Would he have inherited James's cocky arrogance, or Lily's sweet disposition?

Lily. James. They had been a welcome relief from the monotony that sometimes accompanied teaching. Children fell in love all the time at Hogwarts, but rarely did she get to see something so fantastic, so utterly brilliant that it outshone everyone else. Theirs had been a love not seen everyday, something so powerful, you could feel the aura around them. She had watched Lily grow from an unsure, shy girl, to a confident, brave woman. And when Harry had been born, and McGonagall had seen how happy they were, she had felt content. She felt that if something that beautiful could come about, the world might not be so lost after all. Then, a dark cloud was cast over them all, and McGonagall shuddered at the memory. You-Know-Who had destroyed their beauty, and left nothing but a small scar as a memory. Ah well, that was all in the past. Now was a time to look to the future.

She saw the beginnings of tiny heads coming over the stairwell, and Professor McGonagall had to stop herself from craning her neck to see Harry. She drummed her nails slowly on the banister, slowly sliding her hand along it as she walked to the head of the stairs. Seeing the first head, she knew immediately who it was. Sleek, blonde hair, and a nose stuck so high in the air, she knew it had to be a Malfoy. He was walking with a sharp arrogance that came from knowing one's place. So odd to see in a boy so young. She quickly moved on, and then caught sight of what she had been waiting for. Harry Potter.

McGonagall felt as if she was looking at a ghost. A perfect replica of his father, complete with black spectacles and messy black hair. Harry reached and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, revealing his scar. Ah..not a perfect replica then. As Harry approached, he stopped in front of McGonagall, giving her a look of awe, and maybe some fear. His eyes. Exactly like his mothers. He was a perfect combination of James and Lily. Just as she had hoped.

Turning to the first years, she explained to them what to do, and as she led them into the Great Hall, she heard a small voice speak. "Its bewitched to look like the night sky. I read it in _Hogwarts, A History."_ McGonagall inwardly chucked at the students awe of the ceiling, althoughshe had never heard of a first year reading the textbooks before the start of term. This was going to be a good year, she thought. A very good year. Stiffining her spine, she proceeded ahead, straight to an old and very raggedy hat.

Their first year had been a flurry of rule breaking and point winning. McGonagall had been thrilled when Hermione Granger had been accepted into her house, and even more excited when she had become friends with Harry, because, as wonderful a boy as he was, he could use a bit of intelligence now and then. Hermione was her best student, and she had a deep respect for the girl. Professor McGonagall couldn't even imagine the trouble Harry and Ron would have gotten into without her there.

The next year, the "Trio" as she was beginning to think of them, were constantly in trouble. She had known a moment of complete panic when she had found out Harry had gone into the Chamber of Secrets, and when he came out, she had to contain herself from hugging the boy. When he had finally woken up, he had a wisdom in his eyes, and a hardening in his jaw,that only came from being faced with death. As soon as Ron and Hermioneentered the room,only havinghugs and smiles for him,he brightened up considerably, and as McGonagall left the room, shecould hearthem talking animatedly.

It was around this time, that Professor McGonagall started noticingRons interest in Hermione. He seemed veryakward around her, always fumbling over himself whenshe was around. Hermione seemedthe same way.She was alwaysvery open withHarry, hugging him and holding his handconstantly. With Ron, however, she seemed hesitant, and didn't express the same open warmth to him thatshe did to Harry, and McGonagall felt afleetingfeeling of disappointment.

In the following years, the Trio had grown closer, and they did everything together. Ron continued his akwardness around Hermione, and McGonagall could sense their growing awareness of each other. As Hermione grew into a woman, Ron began expressing moments of jealousy, and hurt. They fought constantly, a result, she felt, of Ron being unable to appreciate a mind like the one Hermione possessed. Harry seemed a distant sideliner, having more than enough troubles to deal with.

He grew into a man far before his time, and McGonagall sensed a sadness in him, and as the Trio entered their fourth year, she felt he had troubles ahead of himhecould nevereven imagine.The fourth year brought the Triwizard Tournament, and Rita Skeeter, bringing along with her, the first mention of what could be between Harry and Hermione.


	2. Midnight Rendezvous

As year four progressed, Professor McGonagall had watched from her seat in the Great Hall the shock with which Harry and Hermione had when Rita Skeeter had first mentioned her being his girlfriend. Hermione quickly dismissed this with no thought at all. Harry, however, seemed to have given it a moments notice, then, looking at Ron, decided better of it. Nothing more was mentioned, and the Trio went on as they always had.

The next couple of years were spent completely devoted to the Order of the Pheonix and getting rid of Voldemort. Now, as the Trio was approaching their seventh and last year at Hogwarts, the Professor had decided that if they were not going to figure it out on their own, she was going to help.

Harry stepped onto Platform 9 ¾ with Ron, whose Head Boy badge glimmering brightly in the sunlight, and Ginny, having spent part of the summer at the Weasley's Burrow. Harry's robes, however, were sadly undecorated, and he felt a tinge of regret that he wouldn't get to sit in the special compartment, or do any of the other priviledged things Ron and Hermione (who had undoubtedly received the same badge as Ron) got to do. He squinted, looking around the platform for any sign of her bushy brown hair bouncing towards them. He had missed her, as he did every summer, and was excited to see her. However, there was no sign of her anywhere. Ron had evidently been doing the same thing. "Hmm," he said, "guess she hasn't decided to grace us with her presence yet".

"We're a bit early. She'll be here". Ron sighed, plopping down on his trunk. "She's a bloody nuisance sometimes, ya know it?" He waved his arms dramatically. "Always thinking the world will wait for her".

After 20 minutes had passed, the whistle sounded, still with no sign of Hermione. Ron waved, and Harry went alone to find a compartment. Where was she, he thought? It wasn't like her to be late.

When the train arrived, Harry jumped off, and waved at Hagrid when he gave him his traditional "All right there Harry?", stepped in the carriage, and waited through the ride to the castle. He practically rushed into the Great Hall, expecting to see Hermione sitting at the table. She wasn't there. "Harry, Where do you suppose Hermione's gotten to?" asked Ron, a confused look on his face. "I dunno Ron." They sat through the dinner at the Great Hall, and then Ron had to go off to do his duties. In the common room, Harry saw no sign of Hermione, and so he tried to go to his room and go to sleep.

He dozed off and on, but finally decided he would go down to the Head Girl's quarters and see if she was actually there. As he climbed out of the portrait hole, the castle was dark. Walking silently down the hall so as not to wake the portraits, he was lost deep in thought when something solid smacked into him, causing him to fall to the ground, landing on something very soft. Something warm, and very feminine. Looking up, he met a pair of deep brown eyes. Very familiar eyes. "Hermione," he breathed, taking in the scent of her. He had never been this close to her before. She smelled slightly of roses, along with something distinctly her. Her hair was smoothly curled around her face, and it struck Harry that sometime this summer she must have learned how to control her hair. "Harry?" She stared at him, her eyes falling on a lock of hair that had fallen over his scar. She ran her hand across his face to move the hair, exposing his scar, as if trying to prove that it was him. Harry felt his head leaning towards her caress, and had to restrain himself. As if reassured of his identity, her eyes twinkled. "Fancy meeting you here," she said, her lips twitching. She looked to her left, seeing Harry's forearm pressed against the ground. "Um, Harry?" He blinked, and looked at his arm. "What?"

"You're crushing me". She made a move to get up, and he rolled to his left to allow her to rise. "Sorry."

She stood up, and took Harry's breath away. This was _definitely_ not the same girl he'd seen last year. She was wearing maroon and gold pajamas, which last year had looked perfectly normal on her. But this year…

Harry's gaze started at her feet and rose over the thinly veiled curves. She had grown over the summer, and her shirt was now a bit too short for her, revealing her nicely muscled stomach. Harry chuckled to himself, thinking of all their adventures that caused those muscles. His eyes continued their caress, and he caught a glimpse of her hair. The chestnut locks fell, smoothly gliding across her collarbone, reminding Harry of silk. Her face had thinned also, leaving a very mature looking, very un-Hermione looking woman standing in front of him.

"What?" said Hermione, a very confused look on her face.

Harry looked at her with a very soft look on his face, as if he were going to say something, then cleared his throat, and made a very stern look, furrowing his brow. " Where have you been? Ron and I waited for you". That was NOT what he was going to say, she thought. She suddenly felt like a child getting reprimanded.

"My parents were going on a cruise and they had to leave early, so I arrived a few days early." She glanced down, clearly feeling awful she hadn't gone to meet them. " I've been sick for the last few days and I couldn't come down. I've been in the Hospital Wing all week."

Harry instantly regretted coming after her when she was sick, and practically attacking her. "Is fine Hermione. We just thought you were in trouble or something. Thought I would come and check on you".

Hermione instantly turned back into her Know-It-All self. "Well," she said, "It was quite stupid for you to do it." She arched one eyebrow, giving Harry her best "told you so" look. Then her mouth broke into a grin, and she turned around and headed back towards her chambers. A thought suddenly struck him.

"Um..Hermione?" She stopped and turned, her brown locks swirling to a stop.

"Where were you going anyways?"

She folded her arms, and said very matter-of-factly, "Why, coming to see you of course." With that, she whirled around and walked off down the hall away from the light, her body slowly fading into darkness.

The next morning, Harry entered the Great Hall, and immediately looked for Ron, finding him scarfing down all the food he could at the table. He then looked for Hermione, who was sitting next to him, eating an apple and reading the Daily Prophet. When she saw him, she raised her apple filled hand to wave at him. She looked beautiful. She had obviously had to get new school robes, because hers looked very new. Her hair was down today, pulled back away from her face some.

He was beginning to think of her in an entirely new light. Last year, she had been his favorite person to help him with his homework, and he enjoyed groaning when she would read him something. He would have been dead a thousand times by now without her. She was the most intelligent person he knew. He sighed. But this year..

He was suddenly struck with feelings. Not the kind of feelings he had had for Cho. These feelings were so much more stronger. He was filled with protectiveness, love, admiration, desire. Oh yes, desire was definitely one of them. He had certainly felt that last night, when her feminine curves were crushed against him. But, he wondered, did she feel any of those things for him? She certainly seemed unaffected by what had happened last night…


	3. Potions Class

Author's Note: I would like to say thanks to everyone who has been so incredibly nice AND forgiving for my first story. I'm sorry about all the typos in the first two chapters—I didn't realize that when you upload them, it runs some words together…namely EVERY time you end a line. 

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat in Advanced Potions later that morning, listening to Snape drone on. Hermione was sitting between the two boys, trying very hard to ignore them. Ron was flicking pieces of paper towards Harry, trying to land it between Harry's "fieldgoal" of two L's made with his index fingers and thumbs, which, in Hermione's view, was a very Muggle way of slacking off. The only problem was, they were flicking it over her head, over and over and over, getting closer and closer to her cauldron. She snapped her head in Ron's direction, giving him a very stern look and whispered "Would you two PLEASE cut it out!" She glanced nervously at Professor Snape, who had as yet not seen a thing. "He'll see you!" Ron snorted, and took the folded piece of paper, holding it upright on the table with his left index finger. Harry bit back a chuckle. "Ron Weasley.."

He slowly brought his right hand closer to the piece of paper..

"I swear to God if you do to it again.."

He smiled evilly, and brought his hand down swiftly, knocking the piece of paper squarely. Hermione jumped up to catch it, intending to take their toy to teach them a lesson. However, something happened, something she hadn't expected, she thought fleetingly as she watched the piece of paper fly through Harry's hands, landing safely on the other side…

She missed.

Not by any miscalculation of her own, of course. In fact, Hermione would have caught the piece of paper in mid flight, and taught those boys a lesson about slacking off, had there not been the mere inconvenience of her watch catching on the rim of her cauldron, and tipping the whole thing over on the table.

Harry and Ron exploded into hysterics, laughing in the way that you do when you know you shouldn't be. Hermione watched the contents of her cauldron slowly bubble and pop its way down the floor, until it finally reached a pair of shiny, black shoes. Seemingly in slow motion, Hermione raised her gaze up the long, black, tightly buttoned robes, until she was faced with a very severe looking, very angry Professor Severus Snape.

As he approached their table, he was faced with a very interesting sight. There Potter and Weasley were, their bodies bent in half, making odd noises and patting each other on the back, the perfect picture of the pranksters they were. And there, in the middle of it all, sat a very stricken, very fearful Ms. Granger, her Head Girl badge gleaming, looking up at him as only she could. Severus mustered up the loudest voice he could, and boomed,

"GRANGER! POTTER! WEASLEY! DETENTION!"

Hermione stormed out of the Dungeons, followed by a teary eyed Ron and Harry, almost running to keep up with her.

"Hermione wait up!" yelled Harry.

"Jeez," said Ron, "you'd think she could wait for us for one bloody second!" Then he added a sly grin. "She did get us detention, after all…"  
It took a second for Hermione to process what he had said. She got them…SHE got THEM detention!

She whirled around. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, knowing what was coming. Hermione seemed to be so furious that she couldn't get any words out. She stood sputtering and waving her hands around for a moment, before Harry realized there were tears in her eyes. "Hermione," he began. She turned and ran out of the hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Harry looked at Ron. "Now look what you've done," Harry groaned, and started after her. Ron was left alone in the hall, yelling after them as the door shut for the second time,

"What!"


	4. Secluded

Author's Note: I want to give a big thankyou to moonlightpixie89, Sum1, and AngelinaWeasley1 for their reviews. Ya'll were my very first reviewers!

Harry bolted after Hermione, catching a glimpse of her as she ran through a door at the end of the hall. He ran to the door, and tried to open it. Hmm..locked. He took out his wand, and said "Alohamora". The door clicked open. Hermione must really be upset, he thought, if she thought he couldn't open THAT.

He opened the door, and walked through, only then realizing what room this was. This was the room he had found his first year, when he had stared at the mirror for hours. There sat Hermione, her head in her hands, silently sobbing. Harry walked up to her and gently placed his hand on her shoulders. She flinched away. "Just go away Harry.." she said, turning her body away from him.

"Hermione.."

She turned to him, her face all splotchy from crying. "Haven't you done enough!" She stood up, staring angrily at him. "You and Ron just HAD to slack! Harry, I'm HEAD GIRL. I'm supposed to be setting examples for them, not acting just as immature as they are!" She said the last word on a sob and turned from him and walked a little way across the room, now crying uncontrollably. Harry felt horrible. He again placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry 'Mione," he cooed, turning her around to look at him. "Truly sorry."

Hermione collapsed onto his chest, and let Harry gather in his arms. He held her close, petting her hair, trying to sooth her. It dawned on her that Harry was much taller this year, and she was almost an entire head taller than her. It felt nice, she thought, inhaling his scent. Safe. When her sobs had reduced to hiccups, she rose her head a bit from his shoulder. Seeing his hair had fallen across his scar again, she reached up a hand and brushed the lock out of the way. His head involuntarily leaned into her touch, and she felt her heart quicken. She didn't remove her hand from his face, instead running her hand along the strong jaw, her touch feather light. He opened his eyes, a strange look on his face. He stared at her for a few moments, before swiftly leaning in and pressing his mouth to hers.

His lips met hers softly, gently, asking, not demanding. Hermione's mouth opened in shock, for this had been the last thing she had expected. Her world swirled around, and she felt as if her feet had left the ground, and the only thing anchoring her was his mouth, that gorgeous mouth that was doing all sorts of things to her. Then, as swiftly as it had begun, it was over, as Harry slowly backed off, his mouth lingering on her bottom lip as he pulled away, for one final kiss. Hermione stood there, resting her head against his, regaining her breath. She slowly licked her lips, his taste still remaining. She slowly looked up at him, to see his eyes closed tightly. As she came back to earth, reasonable thought returned, and the fact that she had just been kissed, in fact, she had ALLOWED herself to be kissed by Harry Potter.. "Harry.." she began. He opened his mouth to say something, when there was a sudden bang on the door.

"Let me in! I can't get this bloody thing open!" Ron banged on the door, startling the pair. Hermione, relieved at having an escape, practically ran to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open, revealing a very red faced Ron.

"Where in the bloody hell have you been!" He exclaimed. "I've been up and down these halls three times, and checked every room!"

Hermione just walked past him, her brown curls bouncing behind her. Ron stood facing Harry, his head following Hermione as she walked off down the hall. He turned his head back towards Harry, a confused look on his face. "I take it she's forgiven us?" he said.

When Harry nodded, Ron wiped his brow. "Well" he sighed, "that's a relief. Nothing like a Hermione guilt trip."

He and Harry grinned and turned, walking from the room and disappearing from the corner. A figure emerged from the shadows of the room, looking thoughtfully at the empty doorway. She jumped when she heard a deep voice come from behind her. "Spying, are we, Professor McGonagall?"  
Minerva swung around, her heart beating a mile a minute. "Severus, you scared me!" she exclaimed, walking a bit away from him.

"And you, my dear Professor, are avoiding the question." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh alright. Yes, I was spying," she said exasperatingly. "But you were as well, so don't pretend to give me any grief over it." Professor Snape put his hand on his chest in mock surprise. "Me?" his sauntered towards her, his black eyes boring into her. "I think not. I was merely following you." A sly grin spread across his face. "And what an exciting activity it turned out to be." He clucked his tongue. "Potter and Granger, I would have never suspected." Coming a bit closer to her, so close, in fact, that she was forced to look up at him, he said, "Did you enjoy it Minerva?"

She folded her arms defensively. "If it means those two will finally get together, then yes, of course I will be happy for them."

Professor Snape moved behind her, leaned very close to her ear, and said, "That wasn't exactly what I meant". He slid his right arm to her neck and moved a stray bit of black hair that had fallen out of its bun, feeling her shudder when he did so. He let his hand fall slowly off her shoulder as he walked past her. "Have a nice day Professor". He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.


	5. The Bet

That afternoon, Hermione sat in the girls dormitory, pretending to study, while Parvati was sitting on Ginny's bed, helping her with her Divinations homework. Parvati had always been good at Divination, and was a favorite of Professor Trelawney's. Hermione thought it was a load of rubbish, as she'd told Ron and Harry many times. Harry..

This was going to be a tough mess to fix. She thought back to the event, and that she obviously couldn't let things escalate. She couldn't imagine what Ron would do if he found out. Besides the obvious hurt of being excluded from something, she had the feeling that Ron had had a crush on her for many years. But that kiss..

Hermione thought back to the way his lips had gently descended on hers, confident but not arrogant. Fire had instantly shot through her when their lips had met, and all rational thought had flown from her head, which was a very un-Hermione thing to do. It was something she couldn't allow to happen again. Squaring herself, she stood up, grabbed up her books, and went downstairs, preparing herself for the worst. But, all that met her, was a picture of serenity, one she had seen many a time.

Harry was sitting on one of the plush maroon chairs, his brow furrowed over a book. On the floor near him, Ron was laying on the floor, snoring softly with his head resting on the similarly titled book. Neville was nearby, frowning at the Remembrall his grandmother had bought him, which was glowing a deep red. Hermione smiled, relieved that everything looked to be the same. When her feet scuffled down the stairs, Harry and Neville looked up at her, Harry giving a slight nod, then going back to what they were doing. She sunk down into the sofa, and set her books on the table, jerking Ron out of his sleep at the same time. After mumbling something about spiders, he lowered his head back down onto the book, his snores soon resuming.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was diligently studying, as always. She was twirling a lock of her hair around one finger, her head propped up by her elbow, reading. Harry thought back to the event earlier. He didn't know what had made him do it. She had just looked so beautiful, her eyelashes glistening with her tears; and she had felt so right. He had no idea whether or not she enjoyed it. Did he ruin everything between them? Did she hate him for it? He had thought for one second she had responded to him, but he couldn't be sure. Once again she seemed completely unaffected by what had happened.

It was probably best if they didn't make anything of it. Ron would be sure to kill him if anything did, and then he would be in for it. Well, if she didn't feel anything for him, then he would just leave it all alone. Looking at the clock, he saw it was almost time for dinner. He closed his books, startling Ron awake. "Time to get up, mate." Ron looked sleepily at him and stretched. "I'm going to head on down," Harry said, walking up the stairs and dumping his books in the dormitory. Ron stayed in the room, fiddling with something on his dresser. Harry walked back into the common room to find it empty. Hermione had gone back to her chambers he supposed. Straightening his tie, and putting his robes back on, Harry walked out of the portrait hole, surprised when Ginny followed him out. "Do you mind Harry?" she said, her face flushed from trying to catch up to him. He shrugged and they set off down the hall together.

"So what happened to Hermione?" she said.

Harry's head shot up. Did Hermione tell her? "Um..what do you mean?"

"She was acting funny." She frowned at him. "Did you and Ron do something to her?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know. "Um, yeah, Ron and I, well, we sort of got her detention in Potions." Ginny smacked him on the arm. "Harry!" she said. "No wonder she was upset! She's Head Girl!"

Harry shrugged as they walked down the stairs. "So she was acting funny then?"

Ginny nodded. "I've never seen Hermione _pretend_ to study, but that was exactly what she was doing." They waited as the stairs moved back. "You must have really done something". She sighed, and looped her arm around Harry's. It didn't mean anything between the two of them, she now looked at Harry as an older brother, her earlier infatuation with him now but obsolete. They walked into the Great Hall, walking in and sitting down across from Hermione, who was staring at them, a very angry look on her face. Ginny nudged him, thinking Hermione was still mad about the event in Detention.

Professor McGonagall sat at her table in the Great Hall, sipping out of her goblet. She watched Harry and Ginny sit down, their relationship very clearly platonic, and then seeing Hermione's confused and hurt look. She knew about Ginny's earlier feelings for Harry, but it was clear they were now just friends. She suddenly caught scent of something. Turning her head slightly, Professor Snape sat down next to her, leaning back in his chair. "Not spying again Professor?" he said teasingly.

She frowned at him. "No, Severus. If I were spying I would be hidden behind a curtain, not out in the open where everyone can see me. This is merely observing." She watched as Ron entered the room, looking slightly sleepy but otherwise fine. He sat down with the rest of the group, oblivious to the tension there.

Professor Snape picked up his goblet with his left hand, the emerald green family ring gleaming brightly. He swirled the cup around, saying, "Poor, poor Weasley". He sighed mockingly. "I had always thought he would go after Granger".

"Mr. Weasley could never appreciate a mind like Hermione's," she snapped at him.

He smiled ruefully. "Ah, I've hit a tender spot, haven't I?" Leaning threateningly close, he said in a low voice, "I'm going to propose a wager, Minerva". He pointed his goblet towards the Gryffindor table. "Potter and Granger vs. Weasley and Granger".

Her eyes glowed. "What are the terms".

"We must get Granger to admit being in love with one of them. If I win, you may not remove house points from my Slytherins for the rest of the term."

"And if I win?"

"You won't."

"But if I do, you may not remove any house points from my Gryffindors either."

He folded his arms defensively. "Deal." He stood up, and then leaned towards her. "However, my dear Professor, I am already in the lead."

She frowned. "How so?"

"I have them for detention tonight". He turned quickly, his black robes struggling to keep up as he whisked out of the room.

Professor McGonagall rested her head on one hand, and glanced at the Slytherins, who were over there with smirks on their faces, making fun of the other houses. She sighed. Ms. Granger had best not disappoint her.


	6. Slytherin's First Goal

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in detention, rearranging Snape's potions. Snape sat in a corner, moodily stirring something in his cauldron. He glanced at his watch. "Dismissed." They stood up, and slowly began to trudge out of the room. Snape walked over to the potions, quickly slipped the Mandrake Root potion into his robes, and spat, "Where is my Mandrake Root!" Harry stopped, and turned. "Professor Snape, I put it right there in the cabinet, next to the Wolfsbane."

He folded his arms. "Well, Potter, you can't go until you find it!" Hermione and Ron turned back to help him, but Snape raised a hand. "Potter, do you need Granger and Weasley for EVERYTHING! He glared at Ron and Hermione. "GO!" he shouted, pointing his arm towards the door. Ron waved at Harry. "See you later". They walked out of the room, leaving Harry to find the potion.

Hermione and Ron walked out of the Dungeons, Hermione still scowling. Ron nudged her. "Are you going to be down all night Hermione?" She glared at him.

"I needed to talk to Harry". She stomped up the stairs, glaring at the portraits when the talked to her. They reached the seventh floor, and Hermione turned the corner towards their quarters. Ron stopped her short, however. She glanced down at his arm, sighed, and looked up.

"What?" His face softened.

"Hermione, I..well..I wanted to ask you something". She could see how nervous he was, so she relaxed, and he took his hand off her arm, and placed his hand on the back of his neck. "I, well, I was wondering, if, you know, you wanted to.." She shifted, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yes?" His eyes darted around, as if he wished he really hadn't started this conversation. Then he breathed out, and straightened up.

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me this year?" Hermione thought about the events of the day. She really would rather go with Harry, but as he seemed very close with Ginny, she just might go with Ron. It would be the easiest thing to do, Ron being her friend, and she would have no reason to get nervous with him. She smiled.

"All right, Ron". He blushed scarlett, and started fumbling his words, and while she couldn't catch much of it, it sounded something like

"Really! Woah….never would have expected…bloody brilliant…" She tilted her head to the side a bit, waiting for him to come to himself. He looked up at her, and grinned.

"See you later then, Mione". He walked off down the hall, shaking his head, and muttering. Hermione turned, and entered her chambers, closing the door behind her.

She sunk down onto the sofa, feeling as if she may have just made a very big mistake.

The next day, Harry was wandering down to the Great Hall when Ron came running up behind him, huffing and puffing. "Harry!" he wheezed, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him.

"Got..to..tell..you..something". Harry turned around, and grinned at him, waiting until he had caught his breath before saying,

"Bit out of shape, mate?" Ron was pushing one hand into his side, trying to stay a stitch. "I've been trying to catch up to you since the seventh floor!" He waved his hand towards the stairs. "Bloody stairs kept moving on me". He smiled, and turned back to Harry, suddenly remembering his mission. "Listen, I've got to tell you something!" He glanced around suspiciously, and then dragged Harry around the corner. "I finally did it!" he whispered. Harry shrugged. "Did what?" Ron blushed, and then smiled widely.

"I asked Hermione to the Ball, and she said yes!"

All the color drained out of Harry's face, and he froze, leaning on the wall for support. He was sure he had heard wrong, she wouldn't do that. Not after all that had happened. Unless she didn't feel anything for him. Or maybe Ron was just more important.

"Harry?"

He snapped out of his trance, to find Ron staring oddly at him.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked. Harry looked up at him, staring blankly.

"Nothing." He put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"That's really great about Hermione." He chewed his lip. "Really great."

Harry boomed into the Great Hall, avoiding Hermione's eyes, going straight to the table and slamming down onto the bench, purposely looking towards Ginny and Neville. Ron plopped down onto the bench next to him, and looked at Hermione.

"Stomachache." He said, motioning with his thumb towards Harry. Hermione looked back at him, a very hurt look in her eyes, and then quietly grabbed her apple and started reading the paper.

Harry risked a look at her, seeing her meekly sitting there, acting as if nothing had happened. Damn it, he thought. Grabbing an orange and stuffing it into his robes, he stood up.

"I'm not hungry", he stated angrily, and stalked out of the room, giving Hermione a scathing look on his way out.

On the far side of the room, distantly watching, were McGonagall and Snape. When Harry's robes swung out of sight around the corner, Snape leaned over to her and said,

"10 points for Slytherin, I believe". Professor McGonagall turned to him, and smiled sweetly.

"You may have scored the first goal, Severus, but you've yet to catch the Snitch".


	7. The Yule Ball

Author's Note: I have illustrated their first kiss here http/ rockergurl (not sure I spelled your id right), yes you can use that bit. Enjoy!

Hermione anxiously sat on her bed, her legs folded beneath her. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, and reached for her head, for which Parvati gave her a slap on the hand. "Hold still, Hermione, or you'll end up with this pin in a much more painful place!" Parvati said. She was standing behind Hermione, her mouth full of pins, arranging a delicate hairstyle for the ball tonight, as she had done for the last few years. Hermione frowned, and twitched a bit. "I'm sorry Parvati, but it feels as if you're ripping my hair out!" Parvati laughed behind her, turning to face Ginny. "If I had hair like this, I just MIGHT rip it out." She muttered. Hermione took offense to this, and turned to tell her so, but had her head yanked back about by Parvati. "I'm almost done if you would just." She poked another pin painfully into her hair. "Stay." Hermione could feel her moving her hair. "STILL!" Parvati gave a satisfied grunt. "There." Hermione reached her hand up to touch her hair. "Is it done?" she asked.

Ginny shook her head in disbelief, reaching past Hermione to the nightstand to grab the mirror. "I'd say so". She handed the mirror to Hermione, who did a double take of her reflection. Ginny pulled her arm.

"Allright, now, go have a proper look at yourself".

She pulled Hermione up off the bed, and pushed her towards the mirror. Hermione pulled nervously on the neckline. "You're sure its not too..well..too..low cut?" she said, looking at Ginny and Parvati in the mirror. Ginny shook her head, then smirked.

"I think my brother will definitely enjoy it!" she said. Hermione gave her a shocked look. "Ginny!" she exclaimed. Ginny copied her, giving her the same shocked look. "Oh like he doesn't think about it", she said.

Hermione ignored her, and looked at Parvati. "Should we go?" she asked. Parvati nodded, and the three girls headed down the stairs to meet their dates.

Harry, Ron, and Neville were waiting at the bottom of the stairs for the girls to make their appearance. Harry was still sore about Hermione being asked to the ball by Ron, but he knew there was nothing to be done about it. If he had asked her to the ball, Ron surely would have had a conniption. Ah well, Ginny would do, he thought. She was nice enough, and they were great friends. He would just like, for one year, to go with someone he actually cared about.

He heard the door to the girls dormitory open, as did Ron and Neville. They all grabbed up their enchanted roses, and waited for the girls to make their appearance. Parvati came around the corner first, dressed in her traditional Indian garb, a pretty gold and purple dress, and her black hair was plaited back to her neck.

Neville met her, and presented her with the enchanted rose, which she took, and then allowed Neville to lead her out of the room, and Harry could hear Neville's sputtering as they walked out of the portrait hole.

Next came Ginny, and, Harry had to admit, she did look quite pretty. She was wearing a deep green dress that cut low across her lightly freckled chest. Her green hair was coifed back away from her face, drawn up into a series of different braids all put together in the back and drawn into a bun. He smiled at her, and was rewarding with a very pretty one from her. She descended the stairs and walked across the room to meet Harry. Ginny smiled at him, and took the arm he offered. He grinned slightly, noticing she was wearing Hermione's perfume. He gave her the rose, and led her from the room.

Hermione let herself be held by Ron as they danced, and decided she liked how tall he was. He was so tall, much taller than Harry, and it kind of felt nice to feel this small sometimes. Comfortable. He was obviously nervous, and Hermione could feel it. His dress robes were getting a bit small for him though, as he hadn't gotten new ones since Fred and George had bought him those a few years ago. Still, thought Hermione, they looked good on him. Plus, he was a very good dancer. His mum had done quite a good job on teaching him. He had learned with Ginny, she supposed. Glancing over at Ginny, she felt a moments jealousy that she was with Harry.

Ginny was staring adoringly at him, hanging on his every word. Harry was talking about something he obviously found fascinating. Probably Quidditch, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"Hermione?"

She snapped her head back up to Ron, who had been speaking to her.

"Sorry?"

"I said, its probably time for us to do our rounds". He grinned. "You know, make sure no-one is having TOO much fun at the Yule Ball". Hermione nodded, and the two left the Great Hall, and began patrolling the halls. They walked in silence, having run out of things to talk about long ago. She looked up at him. "Ron?"

He glanced down at her, and smiled gently. "Yeah?"

"Why did you ask me to the ball?"

His calm, easy demeanor was instantly gone, and he stumbled. "Scuse me?"

She tugged on his arm. "You heard me". He loosened his necktie a bit. "Well, you know.." he faltered. She inclined her head slightly. "No, I don't believe I do". He suddenly stopped, dragging her to a stop where her arm was linked with his. He took a deep breath, and looked at her intensly. "You know I like you, right , Hermione?" She smiled. "Yes, I believe I do". He smiled widely, and then, as if suddenly deciding, bend his head and quickly kissed her. They stood there, his hands holding hers up between them. He offered up his arm. "Good". She took it, and they began walking again. "You look brilliant tonight, by the way. Bloody brilliant".

Meanwhile, Ginny and Harry were roaming the grounds. Harry was actually enjoying having someone here willing to listen to him. And she did listen. Ginny was very attentive, listening to him rambling on about Quidditch as if she had never heard of it. Harry could hear the gentle click of their shoes as they walked across the main bridge leading out to the ruins, and Ginny wandered over to the banister, and leaned over it.

"I love the way this place looks at night". He walked up beside her, listening to the soft sounds of the night. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Ginny, why are you so interested in Quidditch?  
She shrugged, her head down, and then looked up at him. "Harry, can you keep a secret?"

He nodded "Of course".

"I'd like to play Quidditch next year." She leaned towards him. "You know, on the team". Then the excitement faded from her eyes, and she looked down. "Ron would never let me". "Why not?"

"He's so protective of me". She said exasperatingly. "Ever since the whole Chamber of Secrets incident". She stepped closer to him. "Harry, you have to _swear_ you won't tell him". He nodded. "I won't say a word". She smiled. "Thankyou". Leaning closer, she pressed her lips to his cheek, and then to his mouth.

Harry was so surprised he couldn't do anything but stand there. Much like Cho's kiss, this one left him unaffected. However he didn't want to hurt Ginny's feelings, so he did the only thing he could think of. He stood there. He was reaching up to draw her away, when he heard voices.  
"Ron you can't be serio—"

Hermione's voice died away.

Harry jerked Ginny away from him, and looked down the bridge to the other side, seeing Hermione and Ron standing there, Ron looking furious, his face bright red. He then looked at Hermione, who's eyes had filled with tears. She turned and ran off, leaving a very angry looking Ron standing there.


	8. Transfiguration

Author's Note: Again some of this is illustrated My screename there is "iloveharrypotter"

Harry stepped forward to go after Hermione, but then,looking at Ron, stopped short.

"Ginny," Ron barked, "go inside". Ginny looked at Harry, then at Ron.

Harry nodded at her.

"Its alright. I'll be in straightaway". She walked past Ron and disappeared out of sight. Harry turned back to Ron. "Listen mate, it wasn't what it looked like." Ron quickly removed his jacket, and tossed it onto the banister, rolling up his cuffs.

"Oh, then," he sneered, "that wasn't you snogging my sister?" He advanced on Harry, a truly menacing look in his eyes.

"No..I mean..I was..but not like you—"

Pain suddenly exploded in Harry's jaw. He hit the floor hard, banging his head as he did. He scooted back quickly, raising one hand defensively, raising the other one to his head, which was painfully throbbing. "Ron, hang on one minute!" Harry's head swung back as Ron again slammed his fist into Harry's face. He was bringing his fist back again when a hand suddenly closed around his fist.

"RON NO!" He looked furiously at Ginny, who was pulling on his arm.

"Why the bloody hell not!"

"Because I kissed HIM, not the other way around".

Ron's arm instantly lowered, and he blinked blankly at Ginny, then looked at Harry sitting on the floor, who was slowly pushing himself back up, dabbing at the cut on his cheek.

"But I saw him kissing you".

She tossed her head defiantly. "No, Ron, you saw me kissing him." She sighed. "If he even was going to respond, he didn't have a chance".

Ron reached forward to help Harry back up, but Harry ignored him and stood up on his own. "Sorry Harry".

"Forget about it." He said very unconvincingly, and walked past Ron, who made a move to go after him, but was stayed by a hand on his arm.

"Just let him go".

The next few days before the holidays were full of tension. Ron was curiously silent, running his fingers through his hair often, as if trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle. Hermione avoided him, and at the end of each class, hurried out before he could talk to her. Ginny felt the whole thing was her fault, and she was constantly trying to get them together. When everyone left for the holidays, Harry remained behind as always, and he stayed in the common room for most of the first day. When it neared dinner time, he wandered downstairs, and walked into the Great Hall. He had forgotten that they only had the one table over the holidays, and approached it reluctantly, sitting when Dumbledore nodded him towards it. There were only one other student there, a very nervous looking first year Hufflepuff, who squeaked anytime someone talked to her. There was McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Trelawney, and next to her was..

Hermione?

She kept her eyes on her plate the entire meal, and when everyone rose, she rushed out of the room. Harry had to run to catch up to her. "Hermione!" he yelled. She kept walking, completely ignoring him. "Hermione, wait UP!" he said, grabbing her shoulder, forcing her to stop. She spun around, raising an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

She furrowed her brow, looking furious. "If you don't know I'm certainly not telling you," she said, her voice faltering a bit. Harry looked around suspiciously, before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the open door of the Transfiguration classroom. He closed the door behind him.

"There, now we can talk".

Hermione sighed, and walked over to McGonagall's desk, perching herself on the edge. The nerve of him! How could he go and kiss _Ginny_, and then expect things to be just as they always had been? She looked at him, for the first time noticing the black eye he was sporting, which was beginning to turn yellow, and a deep cut on his cheek. She instantly hopped up off the desk, all anger forgotten.

"Gods, Harry, what happened to you!" she exclaimed, rushing to him.

"Nothing," he muttered. She brushed the hair out of his eyes, and then gently touched the bruise, and when he twitched his head quickly to the side, she smiled lightly.

"Harry, I wouldn't call this nothing." She pushed him down so he was now sitting on the desk. "Why didn't you let Madame Pomfrey fix this?"

He hung his head. "I deserved every bit of it".

"RON did this to you?" she asked, and then suddenly wondered why Harry was the one with the black eye, when he was obviously the stronger of the two.

"Why?" she asked spontaneously, suddenly regretting it as she recalled seeing Ginny in his arms, and Ron's angry face.

"Oh."

That explained why Ron had been acting so strangely lately. Ever since they'd kissed, he'd been attached to her at the hip, and had been avoiding Harry like the plague.

"What happened after I left?" she asked, tipping his jaw up with her hand so that she could fully examine his bruises.

He shrugged, and scooted back onto the desk a bit more, making him the same height as Hermione. "Ron hit me twice before I could even explain, saying some nonsense about how I was snogging his sister". He winced as she touched a particularly tender spot.

"Ouch".

"Sorry". She withdrew her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Go on".

"Anyways, then Ginny broke in, and explained it to him". He looked down at her. "Then he said sorry, and I left".

"Explained what?" she asked curiously.

"How she had kissed me, and I basically had just stood there".

Relief flooded through her. Ginny had kissed him. Her eyes sparkling, she looked up at him, seeing an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Was that why you were upset Hermione?"

She turned her head away from him, knowing her eyes would reveal everything. She heard him stand up, and felt her hair being drawn away from her ear. He leaned close, and said quietly,

"You are the most important person to me". She sighed, leaning into him, his chest warming her back.

He gently kissed her on her neck right under her ear, and she felt gooseflesh rise. Tipping her head to the left, Harry continued, trailing kisses down her neck. She felt his hands trailed down her sides until he touched her hips, and she felt the warmth leave her back as he moved around her until she was face to face with him. Cupping her face, he kissed her. He didn't touch her anywhere except where that sinful mouth was touching hers. He was daring her, as he had so many times in the past. Daring her to kiss him back, to take the leap with him, to cross the invisible line that was slashed between friendship and what lay beyond. She felt a mix between anger at his taunting, and the even stronger urge to kiss him back.

Heavens, but he was persuasive. His mouth slanted over hers, and she allowed him to coax her mouth open, and then….she jumped. She attempted to mimic what he was doing, but every time she would, he would change his approach. Determination sterning inside her, she grabbed his head and thrust her fingers into his black locks, kissing him deeply as he backed her up against the wall. He shoved his body against hers, and she felt his heart pounding erratically beneath his shirt. She splayed one hand over his heart, and clenched the shirt, feeling the passion inside him grow. A deep fire was beginning in the lower part of her body, and quickly spreading through her body, so that every kiss, every touch felt like lightning. Her senses were exploding, and the sensations were just too much. She broke the kiss, breathing heavily, almost panting, as he kissed the corner of her mouth, then her chin, moving down her neck. He tugged on her necktie, pulling it loose and desperately spreading her shirt to expose her collarbone.

Hermione ran her hands through his hair, her mind spinning dizzily. This was nothing like she had ever felt before. Victor had kissed her, but that was the sloppy kiss of a boy afraid and unsure of himself. Ron had kissed her. His kiss was exciting, but nothing like this. His kiss seemed a chaste peck in comparison to this. This was dangerous; yet more exhilarating than anything she had felt before. She could feel the cool stone behind her, a stark difference from the warm, wet lips which were moving over her.

"Harry?" she panted, as his lips moved over her neckline. She tried to push his head away a little, but then moaned as his lips again fell over that sensitive spot on her neck. "Oh God Harry..." she felt herself being drawn back into that pool of desire, felt herself giving in..

A squeaky turn of the door handle reverberated loudly throughout the room. Harry roughly shoved her away from him, and they turned to look at the door. Professor McGonagall was speaking to Dumbledore, and both their faces froze as they entered the room.


	9. The Aftermath

Author's Note: A special thanks to rockergurl for her faithful reviews, and a special thanks to all of my other reviewers. Drawing is my other hobby, and part of this fanfiction is illustrated at My user name is"iloveharrypotter" Happy reading!

Professor McGonagall stared in shock at the site which greeted her. There Hermione was, her necktie undone and her white shirt gaping open, revealing the tip of a white brazier. Her lips were rouged, and her face flushed. Her brown eyes were darkened by desire, and she kept brushing her fingers across her lips, as if not quite sure what had just happened. If this were any other time, she might have laughed to see her favorite Know-It-All looking completely baffled, unsure of herself, but yet a complete woman. But, this was not the time.

She had intended for them to get together, but she had never imagined Ms. Granger would let it go so far. She had figured, and quite wrongly, that she was too sensible for that. But, she had thought she herself, had she been that sensible when she was young?

Sighing, she looked at Dumbledore for help. He looked positively furious, although she knew it was a farce, as Albus reveled in any sort of scandal, and this was just the kind of thing he would laugh about later. However, right now, he looked like a force to be reckoned with.

Dumbledore looked sternly over his spectacles, and looked at them. "Harry, Hermione, you are clever people. I think you know what you've done, and I suggest you fix it." He looked at McGonagall. "Minerva, if you have anything to add?"

McGonagall sighed, and tried to look angered. "Ms. Granger, after you have," she gave a meaningful look at Hermione's undone blouse, "ah…straightened yourself out, I believe you can assess the situation, and deal with it accordingly".

Hermione looked blankly at Professor McGonagall, and then, looking down at her shirt, suddenly realized it had been unbuttoned. A deep flush crept across her face, and she scrambled to button her shirt back, and right her necktie. McGonagall smirked and followed Albus out, leaving Harry and Hermione staring at each other.

She sunk down into a chair, and put her face in her hands, mumbling "This is mortifying."

Harry smiled, and walked up to her, reaching out to take one of her hands. She flinched when he touched her, and bounded out of her chair, stepping behind the desk.

"Oh no.." she warned, moving around the desk a bit as Harry tried to get closer to her.

He again stepped further around the right of the desk, as did Hermione, maintaining the distance between them.

"Hermione, what's going on?" he half joked, trying again.

She stepped backwards and stumbled over McGonagall's chair.

"Harry, strange things happen to me when you get close. She looked around, grabbing a chair and placing it between them. I..I can't…THINK!" She stuck out a hand. "Just stay over there, Harry. Please."

"Mione—" he began..

"Look, Harry. You have to maintain your distance. If you don't..well..we've seen what happens there." She waved a hand towards the stone wall."

He opened his mouth, as if to say something to her, then closed it tightly. "Fine". He turned as if to go, and walked partway to the door, before quickly rushing back to her and grasping her upper arms. He quickly slanted his mouth over hers, giving her a deep, open-mouthed kiss that left her knees shaking. She opened her eyes slightly, to see him confidently grinning at her. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, and said sweetly, "See, darling, you can't resist me".

Angered, she shoved against his chest, which was rather like trying to move a boulder. "Harry, this CANNOT work!" she yelled at him. He pulled her to him one last time, and pecked her on the cheek.

"We'll see," he said, releasing her, strolling out of the room, leaving Hermione standing there, angered, but also inexplicably aroused.


	10. Young Again?

Hermione sat in her Head Girl quarters, pondering what had happened. No. Loving what had happened. She stared out of the window, paying no mind to the spectacular view that confronted her. It had been two weeks since he had so rudely…and wonderfully…taken her in his arms and challenged her. Since then, he had laid nary a hand on her, and she was missing him terribly.

Ron had returned the day before, looking quite handsome in his typical Christmas sweater. Homey. Comfortable. She had run to him, giving him a big hug, which he somewhat awkwardly returned. He had then bent his head and kissed her, so quickly she hadn't the time to turn her head. She had felt nothing but a little comfort, kind of like a nice hug. He had blushed slightly, and immediately released her. He had then turned to Harry, who was smiling brightly at the pair of them. Hermione had felt slightly irked at this, that he hadn't even seemed the least bit jealous of Ron. He walked up, wearing his corresponding "H" sweater, and hugged him tightly. They had gone off down the hall together, Harry listening intently to Ron's description of the Horntail's they had seen on their trip to visit Charlie.

The next day, they had acted as if nothing had changed between them. They had Transfiguration first period, and they had all sat down, in the spots they had ordained as theirs since their first year. When McGonagall entered, Hermione blushed, and put her hand on forehead, but not before she saw lips twitching beneath the green brim of her hat. Hermione had inwardly groaned, thinking that there was nothing more mortifying.

Harry had casually acted as if nothing had changed, laughing and joking with Ron when his owl turned into a rather large, and furry, chair. Hermione, frustrated, had begged off at the last second, and had returned to her rooms, where she now sat, contemplating.

This went on for several weeks, Harry acting as if he had never kissed her, and Hermione vividly remembering every second of being pressed against that cold, hard stone. She had tried several times to talk to him, but Ron, who, after many avoided kisses, had all but given up on her, seemed to always pop up at exactly the wrong time. She desperately needed someone to talk to, and there was only one person she could think of.

Minerva McGonagall sat in the Teacher's Lounge one rainy April evening, her quill in her mouth, grading papers. Her hand rested on the edge of the long oak table, which looked slightly orange in the light of the fire. A deep crimson rug lay beneath it, and it had deep grooves where the table had sat for many a year. She softly swung her foot back and forth, scuffing it slightly on the rug each time.

Albus Dumbledore softly shut the door, taking in the site of her. She looked several years younger just now, with the firelight dancing off of her hair, and her features softened out of that severe look they often carried. Professor Sprout sat nearby, attempting to talk Severus Snape out of his brooding. He was lounged on the sofa, trying desperately to read and look angry.

Dumbledore chuckled softly, gaining the attention of Snape, who was looking for any escape from Sprout.

"Evening Severus", he said.

Every professor looked up at him, acknowledging him in some way or another. When he caught McGonagall's eye, she smiled, and nodded her head towards the paper she was grading, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"Longbottom's?" he inquired.

Snape grunted, and spat, "Idiot of a boy."

Professor Sprout seized her conversation, and ruffled at this. "Now, Severus, I think he is a very bright young boy! He makes top marks in Herbology!"

Rolling his eyes, Snape smirked. "Oh yes, because that is most difficult".

Sprout stood, and made a sound of outrage. "How dare you!"

Walking over to the counter, she pulled out a mix of something herbal. "Herbology is one of the oldest forms of remedy in the known world!" She gave him a disgusted look. "Unlike potion making, which is naught but a nasty mixing of spells". She held up her herbal remedy, and opened it.

Snape let out a menacing laugh, and pulled out a vial of his own, taking out the stopper.. "Nothing you could make with mere plants could hope to measure up to the power of potions!" he said, spitting out the last word.

Dumbledore tried to step in between them, and would have succeeded, had the two arguing professors not reached for each others vials at the same time, knocking Dumbledore on either side ofhis face. Both of their vials shattered when they did so, and the two mixes hit the ground near Professor McGonagall. She watched from her chair as the potion slid along the floor and hit the herbs. They began to sizzle, and a vapor began to rise from them. McGonagall glanced worriedly at the rest of the professors, who were oblivious to the rising vapors. They were all scrambling to help Dumbledore up off of the floor.

Professor Dumbledore tried to pull himself off the floor, but was surrounded by pairs of hands and the sound of muttered apologies from Sprout and Snape. He faintly heard McGonagall's voice, and caught a look of her worried face, right before it was obscured by vapors.

"EXCUSE ME!" he heard a voice say, a voice very familiar, but yet, somehow different.

They all immediately took their hands off of Dumbledore, who still sat on the floor. He scrambled up, somewhat easily, he thought to his mind, and stood. Gasps filled the room, as they all looked at the source of the voice, Minerva McGonagall. However, no longer were her hands veiny and leathery. Now they were a smooth, rich, healthy color. She stood just as straight as ever, but her hair underneath carried no traces of grey, and as she lifted her head, he saw she was..she was…

_Sexy._

Professor Sprout stepped forward, and said,

"Minerva, you're..so.."

"Young", said Snapes unbelieving voice, who was one of the youngest of the Professors there.

She looked down, hiding her face with the brim of her hat, and then she looked back at them, and said,

"So are all of you".


	11. Mr Snape

Authors Note: Yeah yeah yeah I know its been AGES since I updated. Sorry about that, my REAL life got in the way. Anyways, not my best chapter ever, but fairly good yes? Unless you don't like my little never-going-to-happen ship J

This sentence was followed by gasps, and then silence as all the Professor's examined themselves. Professor Severus Snape was still staring dumbstruck at McGonagall. Still wearing the same clothes, her hair and hat still arranged in the same rigid way. She was the same person, but not quite. Her emerald gown was now stretched thin, trying to accommodate for her suddenly plumper bosom, and he could see her black hair, slightly curlier than it had been a few moments ago, beginning to wind its way out. She looked even younger than she had when he had been a budding young student at Hogwarts. She had been in her early 30s when he had first met her, and she looked to be a good 10 years younger than that. He remembered his boyhood crush with longing. He had thought…  
But no. There had been nothing there when he was 18, and there certainly wasn't anything there now. He decided to escape, before his body transformed, and the defensive charm he had placed on himself wore out.

Minerva McGonagall watched with interest as the last person transformed. As a Transfiguration teacher, she was most interested in this. Only Professor Binns remained unchanged, and she guessed that this was because he was a ghost. He didn't notice, which was no surprise, since he had yet to realize he had died. Her eyes moving, she took in the sight of all the other teachers standing around. She hesitated to look at her own body. She knew what rested there. She had never thought of herself as beautiful, and didn't think she needed to revisit her younger, her sadder, years.

She once again tried to get the attention of everyone, but they were now too interested in their transformations to pay any attention. Sighing, she walked over to Dumbledore, and grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He too had youthened quite a bit, his hair a dark auburn, although he still looked to be about 45. McGonagall could feel the muscles rippling under his robes. She pulled again, forcing him to move her direction.

He turned to her, a smile on his face. "Yes Minerva?"  
She tilted her head a bit to the side, and gave him a stern look. "Don't you think something should be done about this? That we should all talk about it?"  
He waved her off, and grinned again. "Don't worry. Most likely it will wear off in 24 hours. If it lasts longer, then we will talk. Enjoy being young Minerva!"  
Frustrated, she screwed up her face in anger. "I don't WANT to be youn…look..Albus, what will the students think?"  
He placed his finger on his strong jaw, as if pondering. "That does present a problem. We will see how everyone has transformed in the morning, and will have everyone check with Madame Pomfrey in the morning. If it still has not removed itself, we will tell the students". He took her shoulders in his hands, and turned her around, scooting her forward with a shove. "Now run along, Minerva. I'm going to go and talk to Madame Pomfrey about a certain pair of earmuffs she gave me".

She entered her chambers, slamming the door behind her. She caught a swirl of black robes in her mirror, and looked up, and found herself staring into a very much younger Severus Snape. She gasped in spite of herself, for it seemed she was looking into her past. Severus had really been the only one of the professors she had known in their youthened appearance, and it was, quite frankly, shocking. He looked to be about 5 years older than she remembered, and he was the most powerful looking man she had ever seen. When he had been young, he had always walked about with his head down, depression oozing out of him. Now, although he had returned to his younger appearance, he stood differently, and there was something in his eyes that made her slightly nervous. He looked like a man who has seen the world, and fought it hand and tooth. It brought her back to a time of temptation, and disappointment.  
A wry smile grew on his sharp features, as if he could read her thoughts. "Brings you back, does it not?"  
She masked her face with a cool raise of her eyebrows and folding of her arms.  
"Severus, what do you want?" she asked.  
"May I come in?"  
"No. Please leave."  
"I need to know something," he stated.  
"What?"  
He took a step towards her, clasping her shoulders. She quickly stepped back, moving herself just out of his reach.  
"What are you doing?" she demanded, retaining the cold look on her face.  
"This," he countered, and swooped his head down, crushing her lips under his, taking Professor McGonagall back to a time long ago.

_A young boy stood at the window of the Transfiguration classroom, looking down at the courtyard. His shoulders were slumped, his hair greasy, and his robes hung loosly over his young body.  
Professor McGonagall rounded the corner, spotting the boy. "Severus?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be at lunch?"  
At the sound of her voice, he snapped around, brushing the tears from his eyes.  
"Severus?" she asked again, this time with a hint of concern. "What's wrong?"  
Walking up beside him, she saw what he had been looking at out the window. James Potter stood below, slung casually across a chair, laughing.  
"Has James been teasing you again?"  
He didn't answer. Just turned and tried to push past her. She grasped his shoulders. "Severus, its alright. What did he say to you?"  
Severus kept his head down, refusing to say anything. She tipped his head up, forcing him to look at her. "Is there something you want to tell me?"  
His eyes wandered sideways, and Professor McGonagall followed his gaze, falling on Lily, his crush. She tipped her head in understanding. "Ah, I see." she said.  
Severus angrily stared at her. "You don't know anything! Anything at all!"  
He shot her an angry look, which softened when he looked back out the window.  
"I just…" his eyes began to well up, and he clenched his hands, as if allowing himself to wipe his tears would prove his weakness yet again.  
"Severus, what happened?"  
He recounted how James Potter had slung him upside down, and bared his underthings to everyone. She would have been mortified, she thought.  
His eyebrows shot down again, and his face scrunched in anger. "How could she ever feel for me after that!"  
McGonagall grabbed his chin, and forced him to look at her. "Listen Severus, you have more than James Potter could ever have. You are enormously talented, and I'm sure in a few years you will have girls pounding at your door, begging to be let in." She let go of his chin, and he looked up at her. "Do you really think?" he asked.  
"I do." She added with a smile.  
He suddenly pushed forward and pressed his lips against hers…forcefully. She stood there momentarily, too shocked to move. Then her wits caught up with her, and she roughly pushed him away, wiping her mouth.  
He was looking at her, with hurt in his eyes.  
When she reached out to touch him, he flinched away, then turned and ran down the hall._

Minerva came back to the present, feeling his lips moving over hers. They were the same lips, but yet, very different. This time a shock went through her at the touch. He slowly drew away, and she felt herself leaning towards him ever so slightly. Slowly, she opened her eyes, to see him standing before her. He looked somewhat nervous, and confused.

They simply stared at each other for a while, each in deep thought. Finally, he spoke.  
"Well, that was different".  
"I cannot believe you just did that."  
"You are different this time," he said as if it was a revelation to him as well.  
"Well of course I am Severus, I have been victim to a youthening potion."  
"I seemed to remember last time I tried that you shoved me away".  
"Of course I did," she said. "You were a student, and I was a teacher".  
"And now?"  
She lowered her eyes, refusing to look at him.  
"Ah," he said, his eyes returning to their former steely gaze. "Very well then". Minerva heard her door slam loudly, as Professor Snape stormed out.


	12. A Midnight Lesson

That night, Hermione Granger sat down at the table in the library, slamming the heavy book down with a thump and a cloud of dust. Her Advanced Potions essay was due tomorrow, and she had to double check some things. It being after library hours, she had borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak. Laying it on the table, she turned back to her work. She had three hours before she was supposed to meet Harry and Ron in the common room, and she was going to need every minute of it.

Four hours later, Hermione closed the book, and returned it to its place on the bookshelf. Harry and Ron had been waiting for her for an hour. She had better hurry. She grabbed her books and stuffed them in her back, then tossed the invisibility cloak around herself, and took off running down the halls, careful to avoid Filch on the way.

Seeing the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione was reminded of how late she was, and started going a little faster. As she rounded the corner, she nearly ran into a swirl of black robes coming towards her. Slamming herself up against the wall, she barely missed the collision. Beneath the robes, the man swung around the corner, rubbing his temples, and leaning against the wall next to the portrait.

He was dark, with a hooked nose, somehow fitting, and long black hair that accentuated his pale skin. Hermione started to inch her way right towards the nearest door. Just as she reached it, it swung open with a bang, barely missing Hermione's outstretched hand. She pulled it back to her chest with a frown, glancing at the new intruder.

She was the most beautiful person Hermione had ever seen. She had flowing red hair, that hung down to the middle of her back. She was tall, although not overly so, and her eyes bespoke of intelligence. She was what Hermione had always wanted to look like: instead of her frizzy hair, this woman had soft curls that framed her face. Her body was a woman's, her face youthful, although Hermione saw a kind of gentle but massive power, and she felt a pang of jealousy for this woman's beauty.

Hermione stood transfixed, watching the two strangers. When the woman entered, the man turned, and began to walk away.

"Wait".

The man stopped, and turned his head a little to the side, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "I believe I've embarrassed myself enough for one night".

"Embarassing you was never my intention".

"Just what was your intention exactly?" he said, staring angrily at her.

"I don't know. The events of tonight have been…strange…to say the least".

He swung around angrily, and spat at her, "You are such an insufferable Gryffindor!"

She walked up to him, folding her arms across her chest. "If I'm so insufferable, why are you still hanging about!"

"Perhaps I won't!" he snapped, getting directly in her face.

"Then go! Be about your UN-merry business!" she spat back at him.

"My pleasure!"

But the man didn't go. He stood right where he was, glaring furiously at the woman, his lip curled in a sneer, which slowly faded as the pair stood there. Then, suddenly, the woman reached forward, grasped the lapels of his robes, and pulled him to her, pressing her mouth against his with great force.

Hermione gasped. While she knew she shouldn't be watching this, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. She had never seen anyone kiss like that. She certainly hadn't done anything like that to Harry. They touched each other with a knowledge, a pent up passion, that could surely only be gained with experience. Hermione watched, her mind cataloging every motion, every movement, as it often did when she was reading a book. The woman was breathing heavily, and although still holding on to his lapels, the man was obviously the one in control. His hands grasped her face, and he was ravaging her mouth. Hermione watched as he darted his tongue in and out, while the woman made small noises of pleasure.

The man then shifted his grasp, moving his hands further down to her hips, and he somewhat roughly pushed her to the wall. The woman's face reflected shock, and then, pleasure, her lips slowly spreading to a smile.

"Tisk tisk, Mr. Snape, 20 points from Slytherin".

Hermione froze. Mr…Sn._ Professor _Snape?

The man pushed into her more roughly, dragging his lips across the woman's jawline.

"But, Professor McGonagall, whatever for?" he asked in mock destain.

Hermione shut her eyes tight. There was no way..this was NOT happening to her. She shouldn't be here. She had to get out. Opening her eyes, she glanced again at her Professors. She could see it now. She could see remnants of Professor McGonagall in this young woman's eyes. This woman moved with the same confidence that Hermione had always envied of Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall had her eyes closed, as he was running his mouth down her collarbone. Her back was pressed up against the wall, and Hermione knew the feel of that stone well.She began to feel uncomfortable, remembering that.

Shutting her eyes, she tried to block out the image of her two Professors across the hall. She had to get out of here. Since they were covering up the portrait hole, she moved again towards the nearest door, and slipped inside, gently closing the door, so as not to make any noise.

Turning, she sunk down on a chair, determined to wait it out. They couldn't do that for too much longer. Looking around the room, she realized she had never really been in here. The floors and walls were covered in maroon and gold, Gryffindor colors. Her eyes went around the room, where she noticed a dresser, on which was resting a emerald green hat. Hermione felt her heart jump. Underneath the hat, were emerald green robes. She knew those robes, those were McGonagalls. Frantically looking around, she saw more and more personal items that she recognized. Oh no, she had escaped the hall into the private chambers of Professor Minerva McGonagall.

She had to get back out into the hall. Throwing the Invisibility Cloak back over her head, she walked towards the door again. It was thrown open, and in came McGonagall and Snape, stumbling backwards towards the bed. Slamming the door, Snape pulled on the buttons of her gown, frantically trying to get them undone. At the same time, McGonagall was pulling open his shirt, tossing it aside. It landed on the toe of Hermione's shoe. Hermione gasped, and prayed they hadn't seen her. Looking at Snape, she was surprised to see how muscular he was. She could see his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he supported McGonagall's body weight, holding her tightly against him as they fell to the bed.

Hermione saw her chance to get out. Reaching towards the handle, she tugged, just as she heard a voice say a spell she didn't recognize. Looking back towards the bed, she saw McGonagall lowering her wand. Groaning, Hermione sunk back down onto the ground, shutting her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that she was stuck here.

"It's been a long time since I've done this, Severus", came a familiar voice from across the room.

"I know", came another voice, softened with desire. "For me, as well".


	13. Knowledge is Power

The lovers dozed, his arm draped over her hip, and her hand resting on top of his. Her body was curled up in front of his, the heat from his body giving warmth to her back. Minerva McGonagall slowly woke, her eyes fluttering a bit, before her mind caught up to the strange sensations that were around her. She felt the course hair on Severus' chest tickling her back as he breathed, and she felt his warm hand on her hip, claiming her. She slowly lifted his hand a little, enough so that she could turn over. She released his hand, and he shifted a little, placing it on her stomach. She turned her head, observing her lover. She noticed how young he looked, in sleep. She felt a wave of guilt, coming with the realization that no matter how young they looked, he was still a good 15-20 years younger than her. He breathed softly, his mouth open a bit, the harsh lines of his face softened. She took her hand and tucked his hair back behind his ear. She left her hand there, feeling the tight muscles at his neck. She wondered if he had always been this muscular, and she simply didn't notice it. Her hand followed her eyes as she ran them across his chest, running over long scars. His muscle twitched, and she looked back up at his face. He was awake.

She immediately withdrew her hand.

"No, no", he said, his voice rough from sleep, grasping her hips and pulling her closer, "please continue".

She put her hand on top of his, and began to pull away. "We don't have time for that."

Sliding out from underneath his hand, she grabbed her wand, and released the locking spell on the door. "Its almost daylight. The students will be waking up any moment.".

She made a move to get up, and then seemed to suddenly remember she was nude beneath the blanket. Severus scooted closer to her, laying a hand on her inner thigh. "They will simply have to deal". He kissed her, coaxing until she was responding with earnest. He lay her back against the bed, placing his forearm next to her head, resting on it. He began kissing her neck, and she turned her head to the side, giving him better access. She watched the muscles in his forearm play back and forth, rippling with the strength he had. She ran her hand down his arm, wanting to touch them.

Suddenly, he hissed and withdrew his arm, as if burned. She looked at him, then back at the place where she had touched. She saw it now. The Dark Mark. Looking at his face, she saw the familiar darkness had returned. Turning away from her, he stood up, and grabbed his robes. "I believe you were right Professor." He finished buttoning them, and smoothed his hair.

"Severus," she said earnestly, pulling the blanket around her and standing up. "I didn't mean to.."

The only answer she got was the slamming of her door. Minerva gave a frustrated sigh.

Several hours later, Hermione Granger came out of the room, dragging the invisibility cloak behind her, staggering the few steps to the portrait hole. She looked dumbstruck, and, to tell the truth, she was. She had been stuck in Professor McGonagall's rooms all night, and she had seen so many things she was convinced you should never know, unless you experience them first hand. She felt somewhat dirty, having witnessed such an intimate moment between two people. Her mind kept replaying the night, no matter how hard she tried to rid herself of it. She saw flashes of pink skin, black hair pressed to white breasts, and heard whispers of wanting and pleasure. She felt a swirl of warmth and stopped her wayward mind. Honestly, she couldn't believe this actually turned her on!

Shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the memory, she entered the common room. It was morning, and there were shafts of light coming in through the high glass windows. Harry and Ron jumped up to greet her.

"Hermione! Have you been in the library all night?" asked Ron.

Hermione ignored the question, hoping that he would take it as a yes.

"Listen Ron, I just want to get some sleep". She started towards the armchair, but Harry grabbed her arm. A jolt went through her at his touch, the memories from last night still too fresh in her mind. Looking up at him, she saw he was looking at her strangely.

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," added Ron. "You can't starve yourself."

She allowed herself to be dragged from the room into the Great Hall.

It was unusually loud in there that morning. On a normal morning, students and professors wandered in and out at their own preference, chatting with each other, reading the paper, opening mail. Hermione thunked down onto the bench, her weariness leaking into her.

"Where do you suppose the Professor's are?" asked Ron, motioning towards the front of the Hall where the Professor's normally sat. Harry looked around.

"That seems to be what everyone is asking," said Harry, and indeed, that was the source of all the noise.

The door opened, and a rough looking man emerged, dressed in half moon blue and yellow robes, his massive muscles visible even underneath them. Dumbledore, she supposed. He walked to his chair and sat down, and the noise level in the room shot up, as everyone began wondering who this strange man was. A few of them had caught on, proving they were not all complete idiots, and were standing in silence staring at him. Hermione thought he looked quite a bit like one of those medieval kings, lacking only his crown.

The noise level rose to such an extent that Dumbledore put his wand to his throat, and said "SILENCE!"

Only one man could sound like that, and everyone immediately understood. They all sat down, muttering quietly to each other. "Last night, something quite extraordinary happened. The professor's and I have unfortunately been exposed to a youthening potion." The quiet whispers rose in volume, and Dumbledore raised his hand to silence them. "This potion is unknown to us, and as such, we have no antidote.

"With the exception of Hagrid, Professor Binns, and Mr. Filch, who were not affected by the potion, all of your Professor's appear quite different. As the length of this potion is unknown, it was agreed upon that you should be re-introduced to each one". He stood, and paced in front of the table. "This will happen in each of your classes. So as not to give you all a bit of a shock, the professor's are dining in the Teacher's Lounge." Removing his wand from his throat, he turned and strode out of the room., which immediately burst to life, and the sound of benches scraping could be heard throughout. Everyone rushed upstairs to get their books, and Hermione was bumped more than a few times. Finally, they arrived at the dungeons for their Advanced Potions class, after being pulled along by Harry and Ron. They all sat down eagerly, the chatter dying down as people ran out of things to talk about. A groan went throughout the room when they realized that in all their excitement, they were a good half hour early.


	14. Similarities

Hermione sat between Harry and Ron in the Dungeons, fighting fatigue as they waited for Professor Snape. It was with a bang that Hermione was jarred out of her nap, as Professor Snape slammed the door open, much as he had on their very first day. He swung in front of them, robes swirling, and gave them all a look that would freeze a Salamander. Hermione, however, was unphased, for she knew the vulnerable man that lurked beneath the black clothed exterior. She saw a hand, his hand, running hesitantly across a white leg; she could see the muscles in his back flexing, as the woman beneath him arched and moaned.

"Severus," she breathed along with the woman.

"Hermione," a voice whispered back, and Hermione smiled slightly.

"HERMIONE," it whispered insistently, and she blinked, opening her eyes to see Harry looking at her in a very odd way. He leaned down close to her and whispered,

"Sweet dreams?"

Hermione's face turned crimson as reality erased the remaining fringes from her dream. She lifted her head from her book, and shot a glance at Ron, who was also staring at her in a weird way. Looking all around her, she noticed everyone was looking at her. She shut her eyes tight, willing the situation to ebb away as the dream had. Opening her eyes again, she saw that all eyes were still on her. Praying to every God she knew of, she slowly raised her head, hoping against all hope that _he_ had not heard her. But no, they would not even grant her that. Professor Severus Snape was staring at her with a look of horror on his face, his head tilted to the side in a way he often did when he was confused. She quickly put her head back down, her face a deep red as she slouched down into her chair, refusing to look at anyone.

After class, Hermione stayed at her desk, waiting until everyone had walked out before standing up and making her escape. Harry and Ron were waiting for her, and they walked silently alongside her as they made their way to Herbology. They both kept sneaking glances at her, until finally, she could take it no longer.

"Look, you don't think everyone heard do you?"

"No." Harry shook his head.

"Just us," added Ron.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"And Professor Snape."

"Don't you mean 'Severus'?" asked Ron in a voice mocking Hermione's.

Her face went red again. She couldn't believe she had done that. Now Severu…Professor Snape probably thought she fancied him. Which she didn't. She was just incredibly turned on by him. Or rather, them. Her mind was definitely not on school work. Deciding she would rather have an embarrassing dream in private rather than in public, she begged off and returned to her dormitory, falling asleep the minute she hit her pillow.

Harry sat in the common room late that night, attempting to finish his homework for the next day. Once he had found out the scores needed on his OWL's in order to become an Auror, Harry had found a new zest for studying. For once, he didn't have the threat of some terrible monster weighing down on him, or Voldemort breathing down his neck. In fact, come to think of it, this was his first semi "normal", year.

Thinking of his Professors, and their current appearance, he smiled. Well, almost normal. Having had Occulamency with Professor Snape before, he had already known what he had looked like in his youth, so it was no great shock. Transfiguration, though, had been something quite different. Professor McGonagall had been in cat form when they arrived, and everyone sat down eagerly, awaiting her transformance. When she did change, the entire class was taken aback. Ron had breathed a "Bloody hell", and Harry heard Draco Malfoy breath in sharply. She was a sight to behold, her red hair and green eyes appealing to Gryffindor and Slytherin alike. No-one, at least none of the boys anyways, could concentrate on school work of any kind. Her robes moved around her in a most flattering way, and Harry spotted Ron watching her walk back to her desk with a look on his face much as he got when watching veelas. Harry was also watching her, albeit with other things on his mind. Watching her sitting at her desk, tapping her fingers on the desk, he was reminded of Hermione. She was reading with the same expression Hermione often did, absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the table. This was a trait of hers Harry had noticed long ago, and it reminded him of the habit of Hermione's to twirl her hair while she was reading. They both gave books their undivided attention, their eyes caressing it, taking it for everything it was worth. He saw in Professor McGonagall what Hermione might one day be. Thinking about that, he froze for a minute. He hoped she had less wrinkles at McGonagall's age.

Hearing a scuffle behind him, he turned to see Hermione standing there in the stone doorway, her slippered feet poking out of blue and white pajamas. Yawning, she made her way over to him, curling up into the chair across the table from him. She looked at him, her brown eyes boring into his.

"How was class?" she asked. "Any homework?"

Reaching over to his bag, he pulled out a piece of parchment, sliding it towards her. "Here," he said. "We wrote it down for you". Hermione picked it up, examined it, and set it back down with a sigh.

"I'll have to go upstairs and get my books". He heard her padding up the stairs, and a few minutes later, she set her books down on the table with a loud "thunk", startling Harry a little.

"Sorry."

Harry returned to his essay, the sounds of the fire crackling and his quill scratching the only break in silence. It was several minutes later when he wrote the last letter on the parchment. He looked up, examining his pinstripe-clad friend. Her eyes were roving the page, darting from side to side as she absorbed the information leaking from the page. After a few minutes, her pace slowed a bit, her mind seeming to fall into the familiar rhythm of studying. Harry smiled as her hand slid up, taking a piece of hair around her forefinger, winding it up, releasing it, and starting again. A thought suddenly struck him.

"Hermione."

"Mmm?" she answered, not looking up from the book.

"Where did you go last night?"

Her head came up, her face flushing red. "I was studying".

She always had been a bad liar.


	15. Four's A Crowd

Author's Note: I am SO terribly sorry that it has been so long since I've updated. I've been in Spain and haven't been able to write! So sorry!

Hermione exhaled with a long sigh, blowing the hair out of her face. She raised her eyes, looking directly at him. He raised an eyebrow, causing her to flush and redirect her eyes back to her book. Harry's curiosity grew. What had she done last night that was so embarrassing? His green eyes darkened with the thought that perhaps it was another man. Glancing at her, he looked for some sign that she had done something adult last night, something he had never experienced. She had been talking about Professor Snape in her sleep. He reached across the table, placing his hand over hers..

Hermione's eyes roved the page, taking in nothing they were seeing. She was thinking of how best to avoid his question. She knew her answer hadn't fooled him for a minute, but she couldn't possibly tell him what had happened. It was embarrassing enough to think about it in her own head! Glancing up at Harry, he gave her a grin, cocking his eyebrow knowingly. No, she thought. He couldn't possibly know. Perhaps if she just kept looking at her book, he would leave it alone.

Her eyes flew to his face when his hand touched hers. Harry's eyes were hard, dark, and a bit angry.

"Hermione, what happened last night with Professor Snape?"

She hesitated. A bit too long.

He scooted his chair back and quickly stood up, striding to the door with quick, angry steps. "I'll kill the bastard!"

After pacing for a few moments, Hermione followed quickly, having to run to catch up, doing so as he swung the door open to the dungeons.

"You've got it all wrong Harry!" she protested, placing a hand on his arm to try and slow him. He shook off her arm, banging through yet another door. Oh God, she thought, they were almost there.

"Was that who you were with? ALL NIGHT?"

"Well.."

Harry snorted in anger, spitting all sorts of profanities.

"Listen Harry! It wasn't like that!" She stepped in front of him, barring the entrance way.

"Get out of my way Hermione".

"What are you going to do once you get there!"

"Kill him." He said matter of factly. "Move."

"Absolutely not!" she answered, putting her hands on her hips. "If you would just--"

"Fine." He said. "Then I'll make you."

Hermione saw him reach forward. She was going to have to change her tactics. He reached forward, and grasped her by the hips, easily lifting her out of the way. Hermione tried her best to prevent him from lifting her, trying to pry his hands off, the thought "brawn over brains" entering her mind. As she was plunked down with a grunt, she looked up at him to see a pained expression in his eyes. His face softened briefly, his hands flexing on her hips. He leaned in very close, and Hermione closed her eyes for his kiss. But it never came. As she opened her eyes, she saw him looking at her in disgust. Remaining close to her, he sneered, "So now you would be my whore as well?"

With that, he removed his hands from her as if scalded, and banged open the door to Professor Snape's chambers. His angered expression immediately fell as he found himself staring at a very surprised Professor McGonagall. In Professor Snape's bed.

Harry immediately turned around, and bumped into a dresser of some sort. "Oh God..oh my..terribly sorry.." he stuttered.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!"

Harry turned around to see Professor Snape, in a black robe. At the sight of him, Harry's reason for bursting in was brought back in full force. Looking at the disheveled Professor McGonagall in the bed, Harry's anger flared. He walked up to Professor Snape and hit him square in the jaw. Unaccustomed to human combat, the attack completely surprised Snape, and it hit its mark perfectly, knocking him to the floor.

At this point Hermione came bursting into the room, and gasping in horror, she ran to Harry, grasping his arm with all her might. "Harry good God no!"

He looked at Professor Snape, tearing his arm away. "Must you turn every respectable woman in this school into your whore!" he yelled, raising his fist to attack him again.

"Harry I never slept with him!" she yelled out. "Last night or any night!"

Harry's fist stilled. "What?" He looked back at Professor Snape, who nodded. "She most certainly did not."

"You would say anything to save your own skin."

"But I wouldn't."

Harry looked at Professor McGonagall, who was still sitting in the bed, the covers pulled up underneath her arms. Looking calmly at him, she added, "It is impossible Harry. He was with me." She looked at him intently. "All night."

A great sweep of relief flooded Harry, combating with a deep sense of embarrassment. He looked at Hermione, standing behind him, her arms folded uncomfortably. She looked up at him.

"How could you ever think that there would be anyone but you?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking at the floor, feeling so very confused about everything. She grazed her finger underneath his chin, drawing his face up a bit to look at her. "I love you Harry." She shook her head. "No one else."

With that, she raised her head, gently drew his head down to hers, and closed her eyes, giving him one of the most exquisite kisses: a kiss meant to comfort, meant to assure someone that they are the most important person to you, and one sealing a promise between two people.

A cough from across the room brought the couple dizzily back to Earth. He broke the kiss, and looked at her eyes for a brief instant, catching the desire in her eyes, before looking across the room. Professor Snape still sat on the floor, running his hand over his jaw. Harry removed his arm from Hermione's waist, and walked to Snape, holding out a hand. Professor Snape refused it, pushing himself easily to his feet, and giving Harry a very stern look.

"Professor Snape..I'm so sorry." Professor Snape nodded, the familiar sneer in place. Looking across the room, he said, "Professor McGonagall.."

She waved her hand dismissively in front of him. "There is no need to explain Potter."

"Thanks." He said, and turned towards the door, taking Hermione's hand and walking towards the door.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry turned.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone."

Looking at the couple, Harry grinned.

"Of course."

As soon as the door closed, Harry was pushed up against the wall, Hermione covering him, running her fingers through his hair, and kissing him with deep, open mouthed kisses. Harry broke the kiss, breathing harshly. "Hermione! What's gotten into—oh!" he jumped as he felt her hand run down over him.

"I think its time I told you where I was last night." Taking his hand, she slid her fingers between his. "Come on."


	16. A Story is Revealed

An hour and a half later, Hermione took her hands off the desk in the common room, and started twirling her hair again, biting her lip. She sat across from a thoroughly flustered Harry. She felt like she had just made some grand mistake. The entire story had been told with her eyes focused on some unknown part of the table, and now, Harry looked at her with burning cheeks.

"Woah." He said breathlessly.

"I know." Hermione answered.

An awkward silence seeped into the room, as they continued staring at each other.

Harry cocked one eyebrow.

Hermione, who had never correctly been able to do such things, raised both.

The sound of his chair scooting back barely registered before Hermione felt his hand grasping the back of her neck. Compared to this kiss, the others felt like they had been mere hellos. He grasped her waist, pulling her closer with an incredible ferocity. Hermione quivered visibly as his tongue sank deep into her mouth, and Hermione pushed her fingers into his hair, grasping it, trying to pull his head away a bit so that she could breathe. His mouth tore from hers with a gasp of air. She held his head back, panting.

"I CANNOT BLOODY THINK WHEN YOU DO THAT."

Harry grinned. "Did you ever consider that sometimes you think too much?" He leaned forward, brushing his nose against hers in a playful way.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Harry, I really feel that it is quite impossible to think too much. I mean, for example, take—

He placed his finger over her mouth, quieting her. He leaned forward again, this time placing a kiss on her forehead. "Night 'Mione." He slid his arm from around her waist, and walked towards the stairs, taking a small bit of delight when Hermione's body unconsciously protested by leaning towards him. She stood there glowing as Harry disappeared up the stairs.

A shadow stood at the top of the stairs, watching the encounter. As Harry neared the top, the smile that he was wearing dropped suddenly. "Ron." Ron looked at Harry with a look of utter betrayal, and then quietly backed into the dormitory, a tear rolling down his face as he shut the door.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Professor McGonagall sat at the teacher's table, watching the students enter while she ate her breakfast. The students turned their faces towards her table as they entered, still curious about the effects of the youth potion. She didn't mind admitting she was more than a bit flattered when the boy's blushed as they caught her eye. It had been such a long time since anyone had thought of her as pretty.

Ron Weasley was among the first to enter the room, his forehead crinkled as if he was about to cry the entire time. _Where were Harry and Hermione?_ Those three were always together. Unless..

Her mind wandered to the event a few days previously when she and Albus had walked in on the two of them snogging against the wall. It was a good thing they had entered when they had. Those two seemed to have no inclination to stop. She wondered if they had found some empty broom closet or something similar. But no, there was Hermione, walking in a film of happiness. She sat down across from Weasley without acknowledging the faint crinkle that was spread on his forehead, and took an apple from the basket.

But where was Harry? Minerva's heart began to beat a little faster with worry. _No, he's fine. _She thought. _Voldemort is dead. _Her eyes searched the room. She sighed. There he was, walking in without a scratch. However, he did look very troubled. Perhaps she should speak to him later, just to make sure nothing was wrong.

A loud "clunk" beside her on the table jolted her from her thoughts.

"So how is our little bet going?"

Minerva's face flushed at the deep, rough sound of his voice.

"Severus." She feigned indifference, picking up her fork.

"When is Weasley going to make his move?" he snarled, staring intently at them. "I know I would have."

McGonagall's fork slipped, making a loud scraping sound against her plate. "I believe we already know that." She picked up her fork, pointing it towards the Trio. "Perhaps Potter is a bit more like you than you think."

They both observed Hermione as she slid her hand into Harry's on the bench beside the table. Snape snarled, then grinned as he watched Potter squeeze her hand, then release it, moving his to his lap, out of her reach.

He smile widened at the look of disappointment on McGonagall's face. "Perhaps not." He grasped McGonagall's own under the table, running his calloused thumb over the inside of her wrist. McGonagall snatched it back, placing her own hand on her lap, much as Harry had. She felt Snape recoil as if she'd slap them. He made a move to get up, but was stayed by a hand on his shoulder.

"Severus!" said the jolly voice of Dumbledore. "Enjoying your youth? I daresay you had a bit less youthening to do compared to the rest of us, but it must be at least a bit easier on the joints, eh?"

One side of Snape's mouth lifted in the smile/sneer he had perfected over the last few years. "Immensly." He stated with a sarcastic tone, giving a meaningful look at McGonagall.

"Fantastic!" he moved into the Headmaster's chair, on the other side of McGonagall. "I've a bit of a job for you Severus. As grateful as I am to you for the Youthening Potion, I am afraid of the longterm effects of it, and am afraid it must be reversed. Since it was a potion, I was hoping that you could come up with the reverse potion."

Snape nodded. "I'll start researching after my classes today."

"Great!" He turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, I'd like you to help him."

She almost dropped her cup. "Albus, do you not think it would be a better solution for Professor Sprout to help him, since it was the initial mixture of their two vials that created the potion?"

"Hogwash! This potion cannot be reversed simply by another potion. Only a potion AND a very strong Transfiguration spell will do the trick." He drained his goblet, set it down, and turned to his own food.

Minerva sighed, and turned back around. "Sever—"

But he was gone.


	17. Trial and Error

After McGonagall left, Snape sneaked back into the room, and began eating his breakfast, his eyes straying to the "Golden Trio" as some had begun to call them. He snorted. Arrogant, disobeying, non studying Trio, he thought. Granger it seemed had finally noticed that Weasley was upset about something. He could see her trying to pry it out of him, while Potter kept his head down, poking at his food. After a few minutes, Weasley stood up angrily, throwing an angry look towards Potter, who finally looked up, attempting to explain himself.

Granger looked slightly worried now. As Potter also stood up, she leaned forward, attempting to interject something. Finally, Weasley's voice rose to a level that Snape could hear. "She was mine!" he shouted at Harry, the tears welling in his eyes visible from Severus's seat. Snape sat forward, the argument finally interesting him.

Hermione Granger looked grief stricken. She looked anxiously between the two boys, not knowing which side to take. Potter leaned forward, trying to say something consoling, and she gone around the table, and grasped his arm. But Weasley would hear none of it. He angrily pulled his arm from Granger's, and strode out of the hall, knocking over his plate in his hurry.

The clattering of the plate was the only sound that could be heard as Granger and Potter stared across the table at each other, a mutual look of shock and sorrow reflected in their eyes.

That afternoon, Snape sat at his desk, grading papers when he heard his door slam. Glancing up, he smiled. She stood in his dark dungeons, looking strangely out of place. Her tartan robes met perfectly her long hair, which she still wore in the tight bun. A few strands had escaped, and they trailed her neckline in a most seductive way.

She squirmed under his scrutiny. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

"Of course, my dear."

"Don't call me that. Professor McGonagall will be fine."

He sneered. "Fantastic. Reminds me of my school days."

She bumped into the desk she had been walking towards. Looking briefly up at him, she straightened it, and sat behind it.

"So Albus tells me that simply brewing up the exact same potion will not remedy our situation?"

He shook his head. "Afraid not." Grabbing a book off of his shelf, he brought it over to the table, flipping it open to a page full of all sorts of vile looking potions. "Think of the mixture that Professor Sprout and I made as a sort of..poison." She flipped through a couple of pages, reading through all the various poisons listed. "Now, if someone takes a poison, you cannot simply give them more of the poison to make them better."

"You must find an antidote." She stated.

As she continued reading through the listed potions, Snape added. "Dumbledore thinks that with my strengths in the art of Potion making, and your exceptional powers of Transfiguration, we could come up with an antidote easily enough."

She nodded her head. "I agree. Now, I've brought along several books. It will be rather difficult, because really you and Sprout didn't just "transfigure" us, you youthened us. So I was thinking, that if we looked at some of the aging spells, something rather similar to the spell the two Weasley twins used before the Triwizard Tournament," at his sneer she hastened quickly to mention, "but much stronger, of course.."

He nodded. "I'll get the ingredients."

Several days passed between them as they looked for an antidote to the youthening potion. What would normally have been a mundane process, was peaked by the hidden touches between them, although consciously, he never touched her. As much as Minerva would like to ignore it, her body was on fire. The toe of his booted foot would slide past her cloth clad one, or she would place her hand on the table where his own hand had moments before rested, feeling the warmth of his body heat. She was having a terrible time concentrating on the task at hand, especially because he seemed to have no idea what he was doing to her.

The following Friday, they sat across from each other at one of the long desks. In between them sat a row of four potions. McGonagall picked up one, reading the label.

"Allright, so refresh my memory."

"Okay, well," looking at the bottle in her hand, he reached up and snatched it away. "Not that one." He placed it back on the table.

"We will test the four antidotes. We will alternate, two each, in order to give our bodies sufficient time to recover." He took the potion which was first in the row and handed it to her. "Ready?"

She nodded, raised the vile to her lips, and drank. Swallowing, she looked back at him, and blinked. "Severus, I don't think anything happ---"

POOF!


End file.
